Well it’s the end of week one; I’m here to do my check-in. What I have discovered is good information. Any exercise that helps further one’s creative awareness is worthwhile, even if the outcome isn’t what one expected.

I am surprised to find that Cameron’s work doesn’t resonate in me! I’ve been reading ahead, doing a few tasks, and I notice something interesting to me: I feel like a person who is being treated for an illness that I’ve recovered from. This is not to say that I don’t have more growing and exploring to do with my creativity. Far from it! It’s just that somewhere along the way since I bought the book in 1997, I have gained the confidence to give myself permission to claim creativity and the title of artist for myself. The wounds have healed and the scars, while there, are not hindrances. There is really a recovery focus in her book (the title says it, doh!) that simply doesn’t fit me. My daily pages aren’t full of all the stuff she suggests will come up (whining, negative core beliefs, etc.). I’m enjoying writing the pages (good!), but generally I am not making the discoveries. I muse why and come to realize that the years of my own therapy (we’re talking over a decade) is the reason.

Huh. Now what? I’ll write daily pages and do the artist’s dates, though with modifications (i.e., I may go on dates with a friend, and may write what moves me… poetry, brainstorming, etc.). Doing these activities fills the well. I will also dip into the book and see what tasks really speak to me. But since I already feel at a remove from it, I want to be honest about this. I will continue to visit participants as time allows to read and provide support. We all need people to help us fuel the divine spark. Also, I’m going to start working another creativity book by Eric Maisel. The focus of the book seems to be about deepening creativity and less about recovering one’s lost inner artist from childhood. His style is different; his “voice” feels more egalitarian to me. I don’t feel approached as a wounded person. The book is titled in the following oh-so-scintillating way: The Creativity Book: A Year’s Worth of Inspiration and Guidance. The book is divided into 88 sections meant to be read as two sections weekly for ten months and then two months devoted to a creative project. The creative project can vary from what we typically think of. It could be focused on becoming a better supervisor, creating a new home business, implementing a complex company task, working on a theoretical problem, designing a research project. Because I’m working for a non-profit agency, I’d like to make my project the development of my identity and skills as a philanthropist.

This is not to disparage what others gain from Cameron’s book! I’m simply in a different place on my journey, and my take on her book reflects where I’m at. I wrote Kat about this (indeed, much of this post is extracted from my email) and she replied she’d read a quote “about how books come to us when we’re ready for them and when the words are just a bit further along the path than we are.” I like that idea… something to stretch for. That’s what we are all learning to do: reach farther than we have before.

Good readers, I have a confession to make.

I began Week One of The Artist’s Way on Sunday, even though the official start date for this group was agreed to be January 8. I know… this doesn’t demonstrate a very team-oriented, collaborative attitude, does it? I tout how I value community, that I want to co-create community online and in real life, but this action proves me a bit of a hypocrite.

Here’s why I did it. I began reading the preparatory chapters like everyone else. I decided to skim the book and highlight the tasks in each chapter as a way to deepen my commitment. I’m restless, would have been better off if I’d been required to start work weeks ago, because all I do these days is think too much about the future. I’m overly focused on the Two Big Things that begin next week. I want to do something. One way of handling my anxiety about the convergence of the new job and new creative endeavor was to actually start doing the tasks in Week One. It focused my attention and gave me something to delve into.

So there you have it. I’m a week ahead. Out of sync. I’ve contemplated just playing along and either: a) secretly pretending I’m on the same week as everyone for the next 12 weeks or b) waiting out next week entirely while everyone catches up. My problem with option A is that I don’t want to pretend, even to a group of people whom I only know online. Option B feels wrong to me, because I don’t want to lose momentum. It may be the case that I will be so wasted throughout next week from the change and newness that I won’t be up to proceeding further, in which case I’ll then be synchronous with everyone else.

Patience is not my best trait — perseverence, yes, I can plod along quite undaunted once I start something. But the waiting to start is my difficulty. *sigh* Just wanted y’all to know.

By the way, I’ve done my daily pages three times since Sunday. Not a perfect start, but the notable part is that I wanted to write them, and I enjoyed the process. I sort of sidled up to myself with a cup of tea and wrote them. On the days I don’t do them I will just note this and not get distracted. I will not be turned away from well-being by my inner-legalistic-either/or-perfectionist this time.

In one week I start my new job. In one week, the journey of The Artist’s Way begins in earnest.

I am anxious and restless. Not about my ability to do the job, but about the impact it will have on my life. I have lived “the life of Riley” since June. Hours and hours have been at my beck and call to read books and blogs, to write as often as I want, to take photos and tinker with them, to make art, to run errands on my schedule, to live at my own pace.

This is about to change. One-third of my life each day will be devoted to work. Granted, it is work I want to do. But it will mean less of something else. Beyond giving the job my best, I have decided that my number one priority is to get good sleep each day. I’m historically a poor snoozer; I have trouble falling asleep, and I wake easily. I’m also a night owl, and this job will require a shift. Decades ago I dealt with early work schedules by going to bed at midnight or later and getting only 4-6 hours sleep. It was detrimental then but I forced myself and had the stamina. No more. Not getting enough rest is literally dangerous to me — my driving reflexes are slower, I consume more caffeine, my temperament grows raw. There’s plenty of research on the long-term consequences of insufficient sleep to back this up.

So if two-thirds of my life will be given to work and sleep, that leaves 8 hours daily for the rest of life: commuting to/from work, reading books, writing, reading blogs, knitting, errands, movies, socializing, laundry, cooking, creating, etc. I will no longer be able to do all these things as much as I want.

I’ve written several times before about the amount of time I spend on blogging, and I’ve contemplated reducing my involvement, but so far I haven’t. My schedule hasn’t required a reduction. But now I am forced to choose. And it’s interesting that anxiety arises as a result. What’s that about? Sometimes methinks I’m a bit too attached — maybe addicted — to this. Other people I regularly check on post far less frequently: Kat’s Paws, Dating God, Mindful Moderation, Ectophensis, Santiago Dreaming, Blaugustine, Sacred Ordinary, The Other Side, The Obvious, and Cicada are examples. (I’m feeling lazy at the moment and am not linking them because they are all in the sidebar.) I haven’t abandoned them for writing less often than I. In fact, with Bloglines and other services, I can easily find out when they’ve updated and only visit when there is a new post. It’s just that there are so many blogs I want to read, and this number has only increased with the advent of The Artist’s Way (check Kat’s blog for links of participants). Moreover, and I admit this with a tinge of — shame? chagrin? — the anxiety is related to my fear of being abandoned by my readers and to the wish not to disappoint. That is, if I take time to balance my life and live it, leaving less time to create blog fodder, y’all will get pissed off and leave.

One other reason for the anxiety… I use blogging the way others use television as a time-stealer. From what I’ve gathered from skimming The Artist’s Way, time on the web is a way I keep my energy tied up. Prior to the new job my life could absorb that. Less free time means using what I have judiciously. Oh, and another reason for the anxiety… what if I spend less time online and find I don’t miss it, or that I prefer the reduction? I confess a secret admiration for people who decided blogging was sucking away precious resources and so walked away. Blogging has been wonderful, but it exponentially expanded my world. There is only so much of me to go around. I need to find out what I did with my time before I fell down the blog hole. I mean, the first thing I do after I get into my home is make a beeline for the laptop to check email and blogs. And I check it numerous times after. Hell, the first thing I did upon realizing I couldn’t sleep was to come here. Far too many hours slip into cyberspace. This change in my schedule means I’ll take a reduction in my “hit” (if I want to do anything else I enjoy), or a reduction in reading/creating/socializing, etc. in order to keep the Internet injection constant.

Oh, this post isn’t very organized… it’s more like prattle in the close-to-wee hours. I simply needed to articulate these thoughts. Sometimes it’s akin to herding cats.